


Pickle AU

by ACatandADoor



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Nightmares, Pickles - Freeform, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Season 5 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24486121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatandADoor/pseuds/ACatandADoor
Summary: Set two weeks after the end of the war, Catra wakes up in a cold sweat alone in she and Adora's room in Bright Moon. Bonding over briny vegetable matter ensues.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 68





	Pickle AU

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfic, so hopefully it comes out satisfactory. I don't have too much to plug here, but huge thanks to the Family group chat on Twitter (I love my kids they are my UwUs) and whoever came up with the McDonald's AU. It semi-indirectly inspired this. Also whoever I tweeted with about pickles. I can't remember who and It's 2:53AM so I'm honestly a bit too lazy to check. I should be writing my book or making my bed or sleeping right now but hey when the spark strikes there's no stopping it.
> 
> Thanks again, y'all. Big love to the fandom.  
> More notes at the bottom.
> 
> @ACatandADoor on Twitter

Since the end of the war, Catra hadn’t had any nightmares.

For the first time since she could remember, she’d been sleeping for the entire night. Not only that, she’d been sleeping well. Having Adora next to her had maybe been even more therapeutic than her meditative therapy sessions with Perfuma. Not to demean the work that Flower Girl could do at all. Heck, she’d worked wonders in the fortnight since the war had ended.

But there was something about being next to Adora at night. Her warm skin pressed against Catra’s fur, the rise and fall of her chest.

Falling asleep wrapped in each others arms.

Waking up the same way, but with the addition of legs tangled together.

The golden sunrise squeezing through the hills, coming in through the massive archways and windows, splashing across the brightly colored walls, creating a plethora of rainbows through the waterfall and morning mist.

It was, in a word: heavenly.

She could lose herself in daydream for hours just thinking of it and she could lose herself in the moment when it was actually happening.

She’d been happy before.

Overjoyed, even.

But never content.

Now, she was content.

So very content.

Then, one night, it happened. The nightmares came back. Flashes of white and green and black, eyes with white pupils rolling forward, tortured inhuman screams that she could scarcely recognize as her own, electricity sparking the air, the smell of burnt hair and ozone, feeling her bones scorch, her blood boil, her skin burn.

Magenta and scarlet, narrowed eyes, grey skin and too-white teeth, unnatural soft scar tissue across eyes with diamond pupils, tendrils of milky shadow so black the edges sparked with purple.

“You are nothing. You are less than nothing”

“Catra.”

The disapproving looks.

“Welcome into the fold, little sister.”

The telltale smirk.

“You worthless wretch!”  
“Disgusting.”

“Come to the light.”

“Catra.”

She woke with a start, thrashing and breathing hard, claws slashing at nothing, fur matted and soaked in sweat, hackles up, crying out, tears burning her eyes and poured down her face.

She sniffled.

Whimpered.

Breathing was hard.

She sat still for a moment, noticing just how hard she was shaking.

Vibrating.

Her breath sputtered, slowed.

Her heart was still beating so fast she could see her chest bumping every time it pumped the adrenaline around her body.

“Adora?”

She whispered at first.

Her eyes adjusted, and she sat up, looking to her right for comfort.

Gone.

Her breath hitched.

She looked around.

Not one the balcony. Not by the dresser. Not by the waterfall.

The door.

The door.

The door.

It was ajar. Just barely open, cool purple-blue light spilling in from the hallway.

Just a sliver of light.

Different from the blue-white of the moonlight spilling in from the balcony.

She stepped out of the bed. The air was cool, and just a little humid, the floor was cold against her feet. She padded over to the door, careful not to make a single sound.

Peering through the slit in the door.

Slowly opening it, taking care not to let it creak, then slipping silently into the hallway and keeping close to the wall.

One foot in front of the other, crouching but moving swiftly, arms outstretched, claws bared.

She scoured the entirety of the castle, every nook and cranny, every ledge and lip, every parapet and room she knew of.

And then she heard it.

Ears attuned to hear the squeak of a mouse from leagues away.

*click-pop*

What. Was that.

Down. Through one hallway, down the stairs, down another hallway, around a bend, ears straining for anything else, tracking and tasting the air, moving like a shadow in the penumbra of one of Etheria’s many moons, she crept and crawled and plodded.

There.

Light spilling haphazard across the hall, the fluorescent hum of an empty kitchen.

A soft crunch.

Chewing.

The smack of lips.

A sigh.

Breathing.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

She peered, ever so carefully, ears twitching, body tense and ready to run or fight, maim or kill, smash or destroy—

“Adora?!”

She gasped, incredulous.

The blonde stopped mid-chew, hands full, bluebell eyes wide, cheeks puffed full of… of…

“What. Is that?”

“Ih ah uh ih oouh ihh.”

“…What?”

Catra now stood fully in the doorway, tail curling and uncurling while her idiot of a girlfriend chewed and swallowed.

“Well? What is that?”

Catra gestured at the glass jar full of weird green sticks. She could smell the sour stench from the doorway.

“Catra… they’re…”

“They’re what?”

Adora sighed, her head dropping forward in shame, cheeks suddenly going bright red.

“pickles.”

“Pickles?”

Another sigh, this one more dramatic.

“Yeah. Pickles.”

“They smell gross.”

Adora immediately shifted to defense. Chin up, chest puffed out, frown plastered across her face.

“They. Are. Delicious.”

Catra walked to the edge of the table, smirking, and leaned on it.

“Suuuuuure. That’s why you have to sneak out of our room in the middle of the night to come steal them from the kitchen. Like a thief.”

“Shuddup.”

“What, you know I’m right, Princess.”

Adora blushed again.

“Fine,” she groaned, then perked up “well maybe you just need to try one.” She grinned.

“Oh no no, I am not trying your weird green slime sticks, no thank you!”

“Catraaaaaa, try themmmmm,” Adora insisted, waving a half eaten pickle at her girlfriend, who was now feigning disgust.

“Absolutely not, I have no interest in them, I’m going back to bed and you can’t make me.”

She made to turn on her heel and waltz back to bed as an object whizzed past her head and landed with a wet splat in the doorway.

Just as suddenly she seemed to lose control of her body and jumped backwards onto the prep table in the middle of the kitchen, hissing as her tail went taut behind her.

She glared back at Adora, who stood with eyes wide, arm still in throwing position, staring at her in shock.

“Uh… Catra… where did that come from?”

Catra relaxed and jumped off the table.

“I’m not really sure.”

Her tail flicked nervously behind her and she looked down as she grabbed her left arm with her right hand, dragging her thumb up and down her tricep.

Adora looked at her pleadingly “well… are you sure you don’t want to try one?”

“You really like them that much?”

“Yes.”

“Ughhh, fine. I’ll try your dumb sour slime sticks, but not because I like you. Idiot.”

The both chuckled, and Adora handed her a pickle.

She bit into the end, taking off just a little, and swallowed without chewing.

Adora looked at her, one eyebrow raised “y’know, you have to actually eat enough to taste it.”

Catra glanced at her, rolled her eyes, and took a proper bite.

She chewed. And all of a sudden, it hit her.

SALTSLIMESOURSALTSLIMESOURSALTSLIMESOURSALTSLIMESOUR SALTSLIMESOURSALTSLIMESOURSALTSLIMESOURSALTSLIMESOUR

She ran to the sink, spitting and gagging and scraping her tongue with her hands, pouring water directly into her mouth from the faucet, spitting again, and repeating the process.

The taste still lingered.

So did the silence.

Adora finally broke it.

“So. I guess that’s a no.”

“You’re such an idiot. Yeah, that’s a no. That was gross. I can’t believe you subjected me to that. How do you eat that? Are you brain damaged?”

Adora chuckled, closing her eyes and smiling.

She’s unbearably cute when she does that.

Catra brushed the thought away and pouted.

“Honestly, I’d rather eat the green ration bars or even some of Wrong Hordak’s protein rich amniotic fluid packets than that. How do you eat that stuff?”

Adora looked up at her and smiled.

“Well. It’s a long story. I mean, it was a while ago, and…” she scratched behind her ear and gazed up and off to the side, lost in thought.

“Hey, Etheria to Idiot Space Princess, I’m not telepathic over here.”

“Oh, sorry, it was just so long ago, I—”

“You said that already.”

“Yeah, I mean… okay. So. Where to start…”

“The beginning, probably. How did you end up finding these? Or liking them?”

“Okay, so you know how food here is just… amazing, right?”

“Adora, all food is good when you compare it to what we ate in the horde. Neither one of us has a discerning palette… but yeah, the food here is beyond amazing.”

Adora considered the statement, then continued.

“Right, well, yeah. So I would eat constantly at any time if we had spare moments and I would sneak food into the war room or into my pack or back to my room whenever I had the chance. But then, one night, I woke up really late and I couldn’t get back to sleep cause—”

She stopped suddenly and frowned.

“Adora…?”

“I’m okay, it was just. That night. I had nightmares. About…”

“Me?”

The frowning increased.

“Yeah. You.”

“I’m so sorry Adora, I—”

“Catra,” she smiled again, eyes filled with kindness “it’s not your fault. It’s okay. I forgave you. We all forgave you. It’s okay.”

She crossed over to Catra, arms outstretched, and the held each other for nearly two minutes.

Catra could feel Adora’s heartbeat.

They separated slowly. Reluctantly.

“Anyway. Finish the story. How did you end up with a taste for pickles?”

Adora smirked, then continued.

“So I couldn’t sleep that one night, and I realized I was hungry. I made my way down here and low and behold there’s this weird jar full of greenish liquid and these green sticks and I figure: hey, y’know, I haven’t seen these before, and I’ve eaten just about everything in this castle already, so I might as well try something new.”

“And you immediately fell in love with them.”

“No, the only thing I’ve ever done that with was you,” Adora explained nonchalantly.

“Did you just—”

“Shut up.”

“—compare a story about your first experience with pickles to being in love with me since we were children?”

“Shut up.”

“Wow, how embarrassing for you.”

“Shut up, and that’s my line. Do you want to hear the story or do you want to keep interrupting me?”

“I mean… both? Both is good,”

Adora glared at her.

“Fine, I’ll shut up, I promise I won’t interrupt anymore. Back to your precious pickles.”

“Anyway, as I was saying, I pull out the jar and crack it open and it makes this massive POP and I think ‘oh no I’ve woken the entire castle what do I do now’ but no one comes to grab me so I just sit and try them. And honestly? The first taste? Was gross.”

Catra rolled her eyes but stayed silent and Adora continued.

“But there was something about them. I just. I drank a whole glass of water to try to get rid of the taste. And I was going to go back to bed, but then I had another. And I drank a glass of water, and I made to leave, but then. Another. And finally after the third or fourth time and a visit to the bathroom because of all the water I’d had, I just kept eating them. I ate the whole jar. And then I drank the juice. And I hated it but I loved it. It was so weirdly good. So oddly satisfying. And I never stopped. I just couldn’t. So now, whenever I have a nightmare or can’t sleep I come and raid the pickles from the kitchen.”

Catra stayed silent.

Adora looked at her expectantly, then realized “Oh wait I’m sorry I’m done now you can talk again.”

Catra grinned “So did anyone figure it out or have you managed to keep it secret?”

Adora laughed.

“I mean, it was an issue at first. The cooks were so confused and annoyed but I think they realized why after a bit. So they keep it extra stocked and I never take more than one jar at a time. It’s an unspoken agreement. I think the whole castle probably knew by the fourth or fifth time.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah. I am. Sure you don’t want another try? I promise they get better the more you eat.”

Catra paused.

“Yeah, but we should probably clean up that one in the doorway.”

Adora’s cheeks flushed “Oh, right. That. Yeah, I’ll clean it up.”

Catra offered to help, but Adora refused “this one’s on me, plus I don’t want you freaking out at the floor pickle again.”

Catra rolled her eyes, but pulled up a stool as Adora cleaned up. She finished up cleaning and threw the aforementioned floor pickle in the trash bin, then sat down across from Catra. The pickle jar loomed in between the two of them.

They sat for a while in silence, Adora finishing the pickles and yawning between bites, Catra doing her best to force down her single one and drinking glass after glass of water to wash away the flavor.

As Adora finished her last and Catra gulped down her third glass since finishing her solitary pickle, Adora gestured at the jar, still half full of green pickle juice. Catra looked at her, confused, then muttered “Yeah, sure, might as well do that too.”

Adora poured her a small glass of pickle juice, and they both drank. Adora from the jar, Catra shooting her small glass down as fast as possible.

“Oh that was even worse than the pickle.”

“Eh, you’ll get used to it.”

A shared soft smile.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Catra drank another two glasses of water, then went to the bathroom.

As she got back to the kitchen, Adora held out her hand.

“Shall we?”

“Of course. You look like I feel, and given all the yawning you’ve been doing, you very likely feel like I feel.”

“Yeah.”

They walked back to their room in silence, hand in lovable hand, and crawled back into bed together.

As she felt herself drifting off, Catra heard Adora ask “Wait. What made you come down to the kitchen?”

Catra smiled. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here, and if I ever wake up like that again, I have the perfect solution right down in the kitchen: pickles.”

Adora looked at her, confused at first, then smiled knowingly.

“Oh. Well. Glad I could help, then.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

They closed their eyes and held each other.

The pale moonlight poured in from the balcony.

The waterfall bubbled softly in the background.

The two of them drifted off in each others’ arms.

Safe.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: @ACatandADoor on Twitter, I check that all the time (much more often than here).
> 
> If you have any requests or prompts or suggestions for future fics and you'd like me to take a stab at them, let me know! I do love writing and it's been so long since I've done something like this. I could use the practice.
> 
> Thank you so so so much for reading this. I hope you liked it. If you didn't, I'd love to hear why. Constructive criticism is always useful and I pumped this out in less than three hours so I'm sure improvements could be made.
> 
> Can't thank you enough. Once more a huge thanks to the Twitter family, I love you all.
> 
> Lastly, thank you to Noelle & Co. for creating such a beautiful world (universe? I think this qualifies as a universe) filled with rich and complex characters. Your creativity and talent has created a space for writers, artists, kids, adults, and an entire community of amazingly diverse, beautiful people to come together and enjoy something truly remarkable. You have done the impossible and your impact cannot be overstated. I cannot thank you enough. You are amazing beyond words.


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